The Arena
by Eylixr
Summary: America said the apocalypse would come in 2012, but did anyone listen? Now the countries are in an arena to determine the outcome of the world, with war sure to follow after... Hetalia/CoD Black Ops Zombies mode Kino der Toten. Too many pairings, AU
1. Arrival

_Author's note: Hey, guys, what's up? I've been working on this for a while and I've been trying to make it as accurate to the game as possible._

_I couldn't find Black Ops specifically in the thingymabob, so... close enough. Enjoy!_

_Includes FrUK, AmeCan, PoLiet, GerIta, and hints of Spamano & AusHun._

Germany gazed up at the tattered Nazi flag, the swastika in the middle riddled with bullet holes.

Disembodied shrieks echoed through the large, mostly empty room. A splintering noise came from his left and he wheeled around, pistol in hand. A zombie was ripping through the boards, occasionally emitting hungry growls. Germany took careful aim, knowing he had only a few bullets in his small gun, but a loud gunshot rang through the hall and the zombie was killed.

The German looked up the stairs, recognizing a peculiar laugh.

Prussia ran down, white hair sticking to his face with dirt and sweat. "No zombie's gonna kill the Awesome Me," he boasted. He handed Germany a larger gun before running back upstairs. "Rebuild that barrier real quick!"

Germany blinked, taken slightly by surprise, but obeyed. Through the hole he could see more of the undead coming. He watched them curiously for a moment before dispatching them and completing his job.

He was about to go upstairs after the Prussian when a menacing growl sounded behind him. He spun around just in time to avoid a zombie's swinging arm. It took two shots for the creature to fall and one more shot for it to be still.

He rebuilt the other barrier and looked around, trying to discern where else he needed to focus besides these two spots. He decided to hide behind a counter that gave him a good view of the room. From under the balcony he heard a quick pitter-patter of footsteps. He cursed and reloaded his gun, preparing to fire. Could zombies run that fast…?

"Like, run!" Poland, Lithuania, and Italy ran out from under the balcony. Germany lowered his gun, taken by surprise. Poland was decked out in all pink camo and Italy was frantically waving a white flag- Lithuania was the only one that seemed ready to fight, although he too was clearly scared. He stopped and aimed his heavy shotgun, blowing the head off a zombie that was advancing quicker than the rest, before running after Poland and Italy.

Germany took careful aim and took down the zombies, one headshot after another. Lithuania, who had been aiming again, looked around in confusion before spotting him. The weaker country ran over, his friends close behind.

Italy ducked under the counter, only his white flag sticking up. Germany pried the flag away and substituted it for a pistol, which the Italian looked at in confusion.

Poland rolled his eyes and took Italy's pistol. "Hey Liet, you pull this thingy to fire, right?" he asked, pulling the trigger. Lithuania yelped as the bullet pinged off the wall next to him. Poland giggled and pointed the gun towards one of the zombie holes.

* * *

><p>England lowered his gun, panting, staring blankly at the zombie corpses in front of him. He hadn't fought like this since his pirate era, and he wasn't sure if he liked the feeling or not.<p>

"Dude, is this totally awesome or what?" America shouted from the other side of the room, waving a machine gun. "I said that there was gonna be a zombie apocalypse, but did anyone listen? Noooo! But this is so cool-"

England walked over and smacked the taller blonde in the chest. "Shut up, you idiot! They'll hear you!"

America laughed and put his free hand on his hip. "Is that the best you can do, old man?"

England was about to reply when he spotted something moving to his left. He quickly turned, bringing his gun up to aim. America grabbed his arm and yanked him behind a pillar, whispering urgently. "You're gonna get hurt. Shoot from behind cover."

The two countries peeked around the pillar. The movement had come from the locked doors, previously overlooked. They were slowly creaking open, although the zombies' shrieking couldn't be heard. The doors gave one final shudder and opened wide.

"France!" England whispered, smiling. He dropped his gun and darted out from behind the pillar, hugging his lover tightly.

France blinked and hugged him back. "l'Angleterre!"

America made a grossed-out face. "I came here with England, but did you come here alone?"

Canada peeked out from behind the hugging countries and waved. "Over here…"

The American had a blank look for a moment before recognizing him. "Hey, Mattie, what'cha doing here?"

Canada picked up Kumajirou, who had been tugging at his pant leg, and looked up at his brother worriedly. "What are any of us doing here, really?"

France released England and turned to the two younger countries. "The answer is obvious."

All three nations gave him blank looks. France sighed and began to explain. "We were sent to this arena with a partner to fight against the same things that are ravaging our countries, correct?"

The three blondes nodded in unison.

"Then our outcome will determine the outcome of our countries," he concluded. "If we die, our countries will collapse and be overrun. If we can escape this arena… we might have a chance at survival."


	2. Hellhounds

The assembled nations agreed on forming an alliance. They shook on it and decided to move on. America pointed out that there had to be a way out of the arena; they had gotten in, therefore they could potentially get out the same way. He thought that it had something to do with the glowing circle, and said that they should find a way to restore the power. Nobody else had a better idea, so they agreed with him. He played so many video games, anyway, that he was something of an expert on the topic.

The French-speaking countries froze as a bell rang. England paused for a moment, listening.

"Round four," he said grimly, having counted the times it rang. He lifted his gun, looking around.

"W-what just happened?" Canada asked meekly.

"The number of times the bell goes off is what 'level' we're on," America explained. "After the bell rings, another round of zombies comes. It went off once when we first get here, and round three ended just before we found you two."

France nodded, raising his gun as well. "There was a message on the wall in the Lobby. It said 'beware the sixth'."

England paled, following his lover's train of thought. "So on the sixth round...?"

Canada nodded, getting it. "Something's going to happen."

"And with our luck, it's not gonna be something good," America muttered darkly. He turned abruptly and kicked the door behind him, making the other nations jump. Sunlight streamed into the dark room.

"Way to go," England encouraged, smiling at the American fondly. France nodded, and Canada smiled weakly, trying not to shake from fear. Open door or not, they were still in peril.

The group ran down a few steps and looked around. There was another zombie hole, partly barricaded. An old, rusted root beer machine sagged against the wall. America ignored both of these and went charging down the alley, the others following him in an attempt to stay together. France groaned when the alley ended in a chain-link gate.

"Can you open that one, too?" the Frenchman demanded, glancing anxiously behind him.

America's answer was cut off as a zombie leaped down from above. England screamed girlishly, ducking away from its teeth and nails. Surprisingly, Canada took it down with a headshot from his pistol.

Everyone stared at him, amazed. He had been quickly forgotten after the door was forced open. The invisible country swallowed, shaking slightly and looking a bit green. "Behind you," he whisper-shouted.

France noticed another zombie hole- a window with the glass smashed out, zombies already visible on the other side. England and America faced the alley where they had come from, screams of many zombies already audible. Canada hid behind them, trembling. America switched from his heavy shotgun to a small, compact, and overall lethal-looking machine gun.

England gaped at it for a moment. "Where the bloody hell did you get that!"

America grinned at his parent. "Bought it in the other room." He reloaded it quickly and stepped forward. "Don't worry, I got this!"

England was about to protest when the horde of zombies came around the corner. America went crazy with his gun, taking down the front line within seconds. England scowled- stupid brat was hogging all the kills!- and went to go help Francis with the window, which seemed to be giving him a bit of difficulty.

Canada hid behind his brother, watching the zombies die.

* * *

><p>Lithuania kept a lookout for zombies as Germany worked on breaking down the upstairs door. He slammed against it three times before the lock gave out, letting the door slowly creak open. Italy gave a curious "Ve?" as Germany pushed it wide open, gun at the ready.<p>

Luckily, there were no zombies behind the door waiting to spring. The German lowered his gun and walked in, motioning for the other Europeans to follow him.

Poland let out a yelp and Lithuania whirled around, gun at the ready. The blonde froze.

"Liet, like, chill. Some water dripped down my neck and it felt totally weird..."

Lithuania resisted the urge to facepalm and lowered his shotgun. "You can't yelp like that for just water," he said, exasperated. He was determined to prove that he could stand up for himself- he didn't want to do the opposite and shoot his friend on accident.

An odd sort of noise similar to the ringing of a gong came out of nowhere and a thick fog descended. Germany and Italy were in the other section of the room, but the fog was so thick it was impossible to see which way that was. Lithuania shuddered as an eerie voice spoke.

"Fetch me their souls!" the voice hissed, followed by what seemed to be the crack of lightning. A sizzle of electricity ran through the air.

Poland yelped again. Lithuana ignored it, assuming it was another drip of water.

It wasn't. Poland whipped out his tiny pistol and started firing, scaring the crap out of Lithuania. He spun around, finger on the trigger, expecting zombies.

Instead, he was greeted with the sight of a hellhound jumping at his friend.

"No!" he shouted fiercely. He aimed for the dog's nose and fired. It was an easy shot; he was only feet away from the horrible thing. It looked like a zombified dog, with rotting flesh and the smell of death on it. The only difference was that it was fast, angry, and on fire. When the bullet hit the dog, a plume of flame burst out along with pieces of the destroyed creature's flesh.

There were several cracks of lightning- more dogs were coming. Lithuania dropped to his knees, completely ignoring the dogs and focusing only on his friend. His hair and face were badly singed. The blonde crossdresser smiled up at him.

"I, like, love you, Liet," he said softly.

Lithuania reached for Poland's hand. He could hear the hellhounds coming, maybe five or six. He knew they didn't stand a chance. "I love you too, Feliks," he choked out, unable to stop a tear from rolling down his face. He forced a reassuring smile onto his face.

At least they would die together.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: It's been a while since I updated this! Thank you to xoMyChemicalPrincessxo for reminding me about this. I've been updating it on my deviantArt account, because FF doesn't have a way for me to upload from my iPad. I'm currently working on chapter 4. Enjoy!<em>


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